


Never Gonna Fall For

by ChasingRabbits



Series: Stranger Things 'verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Diners, Blow Jobs, Dorks in Love, Emotional Constipation, Fluff, Hand Jobs, IT'S SO FLUFFY, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:24:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2466476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingRabbits/pseuds/ChasingRabbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam follows through on his plans to stay with Brady. Gabriel absolutely one hundred percent doesn't care because he is in no way emotionally invested in Sam Winchester.</p><p>Except for the part where he does and he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Gonna Fall For

They pull to a stop in front of Brady's house, and naturally Gabriel lets out a low whistle.

"I get it," he nods. "Leaving me for a sugar daddy; I see how it is."

Sam snorts and peers out the window. Brady's family does have some 'swanky digs', as Dean would say. He knew Brady was pretty well-off. Sam nearly had a heart attack the first time they had gone to the mall. Brady was by no means a spendthrift, dropping hundreds of dollars at a time while Sam stocked up on junk from Goodwill.

"It's a social custom, marrying for money," Gabriel puts on his best 1940s radio persona. "A pretty young thing like you oughta be in it for love. Love, I tell ya!"

He punctuates this by grabbing Sam’s arm and shaking him. Sam laughs, “You’re such a weirdo!”

“Eh,” Gabriel shrugs back. “It’s why you like me ”

Sam  smiles, the statement somehow making him kind of sad. Gabriel turns to face him then, folding up in his seat in a way that would leave Sam an uncomfortable tangle of appendages.

“I stand by what I said,” Gabriel says. “One word, I can turn around and you can stay with me and Cas for as long as you want.”

Honestly? That sounded a lot better than spending the rest of his summer at Stuffington Manor, but Sam… he just couldn’t. Cas and Gabe have done so much for him already, and while Sam didn’t necessarily abide by what was one of his father’s favorite old standbys, it still lingered in the back of his mind:

A friend in need is a pest.

“Dude, I already told you,” Sam sighs. “I appreciate it, I do, but. I’m gonna stay with Brady.”

Gabriel sags, though Sam can’t quite decide what to make of it. Sam is used to people who are hard to read; hell, he grew up with two of the most emotionally repressed people on the planet. The thing is, though, that Gabriel is hard to read in a whole different way. Gabriel smiles, he laughs and crows and leaps around like a fully grown Peter Pan. Distracting, yes, and entertaining? Absolutely.

But, like everyone in this proverbial poker game, Gabriel holds a series of cards in his hand. His tells are impossible to track, and he holds his cards so close that Sam swears that they’re glued to his chest.

Sam must be making a face because Gabriel looks up and groans, “Man, put The Eyes away.”

“Okay,” Sam smiles, though he wished he’d kept a straight face. “But you know it’s not because I don’t like you, right?”

By the brief flash of relief on Gabriel’s face, Sam can conclude that, no, he had not known that. So, Sam reaches over and brushes at some of the hair on Gabriel’s temple, “Dude, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

That at least teases a smile out of Gabriel, and Sam bends to kiss him. It’s uncharacteristically timid for Gabriel--for the both of them, really.

Sam… sort of doesn’t want it to stop.

But it has to, and it does, and Sam doesn’t know how to get out of the car without feeling like a total douchebag. A kiss like that can send a guy reeling, and now his head is filling up with all sorts of recollections from this morning.

Not the sexy recollections, either. The recollections of first waking up beside Gabriel, of looking over and seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest, watching his breath puff in and out between his lips, his face totally relaxed.

It was the Gabriel that Sam knew not many people got to see.

Damn it.

Sam leans forward and into another kiss.

At this rate, Sam may just end up fucking Gabriel before he goes inside.

“Okay, okay,” he pulls back and licks at his lips. “I’m never gonna get out if I don’t now.”

“That’s the plan, stretch,” Gabriel shoots back a smile.

“Shut up,” Sam rolls his eyes, unable to keep himself from smiling back. “I’ll come to the diner on Tuesday and hang out during your shift.”

Gabriel’s shoulders tense as Sam draws the back of his finger over his arm.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel nods. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

After another kiss, Sam finally manages to pull himself out of the car, his backpack over his shoulder. Gabriel rolls down the window, ducks down to call, “Sam!”

Sam turns.

“Just… call me if you need anything, okay?”

Sam nods, “I will.”

Gabriel stays out at the curb until Sam knocks on the door, until he knocks and Brady opens the door. He tanned up nicely on his vacation, and still smells vaguely of what Sam would assume is Cabo San Lucas.

After being around Cas and Gabriel for so long, it’s a little startling to see someone so close to his own height again. It sure as hell makes hugs a hell of a lot easier.

“Come on in, man,” Brady claps him on the back. “Let me show you around.”

With one last look back to the street, Sam waves at Gabriel and watches him drive away.

**oo**

Gabriel sighs and flops down face first onto his bed. The sheets are all still sex funked, which Gabriel figures means he should probably change them, but that would require effort--more effort than Gabriel is willing to put in at the moment.

There's a soft knock on the door, followed by a cautious, "Gabriel?" on the other side.

"Gimme a little bit, Cas," he calls back.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted Thor in there with you," Cas says.

Damn it, some puppy therapy sounds pretty good right about now.

“Yeah, sure,” Gabriel sits up just as Cas opens the door. He has a happy panting Thor under his arm, andhis toy hammer in the other hand. He sets both in Gabriel’s lap and turns on the lamp beside the bed.

Gabriel hisses.

“Delightful,” Cas quips. “I need to go to the library. Would you like me to get anything for dinner on my way home?”

Gabriel scoops Thor up in his hands and smiles, “No offense, but if I relied on you to eat, we’d both starve to death.”

Cas nods, “Fair enough.”

“I appreciate it, though,” Gabriel smiles back at him.

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” says Cas. He shifts back and forth on his feet, then asks, “Do you want a hug?”

Gabriel only has to consider this for a second before he stands, “How can I resist that face?”

Cas shoots him a perturbed glare over the tops of his glasses before pulling Gabriel in against him. It’s one of those rare moments that Gabriel realizes how sad he actually is, and why shouldn’t he be? He had, for lack of a better phrase, a nineteen-year-old houseboy who was not only drop dead gorgeous, but smart-mouthed and kind too. How could he not be sad about losing that?

Thor barks from his place on the bed, and that’s the end of their hug. Cas turns right back around and leaves Gabriel with his puppy.

“You sure you don’t wanna go off with some yuppie fuck too?” Gabriel lies back with Thor on his chest. Tail whipping back and forth, Thor comes up and starts to lick Gabriel’s face. He laughs, “Of course not. You wouldn’t leave daddy, would you?”

Thor barks again, and after another few minutes of kissing and sniffing, he hops off of Gabriel and starts to chew on his hammer. It’s damn cute enough for a picture, that’s for sure. Gabriel pulls his phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture.

This is fucking pathetic. He dropped Sam off like an hour ago and he’s itching to talk to him, or at the very least send him a series of puppy pictures.

Then his door opens again and there’s Cas, his giant headphones around his neck and bag on his shoulder. He gives Gabriel a quick once over before asking, “Is this one of those times when you say you don’t want to talk but you really do?”

“No,” Gabriel scowls. The advantage of having a sibling like Cas is that he more or less leaves Gabriel alone whenever he needs, and only really engages when he’s asked or can see outright pain. Either Gabriel looks like shit, or Cas is getting better at reading him.

Gabriel sighs and hangs his head, “I don’t want to talk.”

“Okay,” Cas replies. “I’m sensing that I shouldn’t leave you to wallow, though.”

“Man, go work,” Gabriel waves him off. “I’ll be fine.”

Cas narrows his eyes, “You won’t be, will you?”

“Jesus Christ,” Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Man, you know I didn’t want him to leave. I’m bummed. There, are you happy?”

“Not for years, no,” Cas drops his bag and joins Gabriel on his bed. “Did he say anything to you?”

“He’s gonna come by the diner on Tuesday,” Gabriel shrugs.

Cas frowns, “So, you’re seeing him again?”

Holy crap, why does he feel like he just got made? His face starts to burn and his heart starts to _thuh-thump thuh-thump_  just a little bit faster. Thor’s fur is suddenly very interesting.

“Do you like him?” asks Cas.

“No, because I’m not a nine year old,” Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest. He then looks down at himself, arms and legs folded with a puppy in his lap and grumbles, “I know I’m not doing myself any favors right now, but whatever.”

“I meant ‘like’ in its general sense,” Cas pushes his glasses up his nose. “I believe what you’re referring to is your romantic and physical attraction, which is so nauseatingly obvious, by the way. I mean as a person, do you like him?”

Gabriel shrugs, figuring there’s no harm in admitting, “Well, no duh.”

“Have you told him that?”

“No,” Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“Why would anyone tell anyone they have feelings for them!” Gabriel gestures, almost hitting Cas in the nose.

“Feelings,” Cas grumbles. “What feelings? How are you supposed to know what feelings they mean?”

“It’s a widely accepted way of saying you’re into someone, you nerd!”

“I have very legitimate questions about the non-specificity of that phrase,” Cas mirrors Gabriel’s folded arms. He mutters, “Very legitimate.”

“Christ almighty,” Gabriel flops back. “It’s more trouble than it’s worth, all right, Cas? Best case scenario, he comes to the diner fairly often and sometimes I convince him to have sex with me in the bathroom on my break.”

Cas pauses for a few moments, letting the information filter through his brain before he concludes, “Well, if that’s the best you’re hoping for, then it doesn’t sound like you have a whole lot to lose.”

Gabriel frowns and looks up.

“What?” asks Cas.

“I think you just had an insightful moment,” says Gabriel.

“Oh,” Cas nods. “Fancy that.”

Gabriel snorts

“Are you going to tell him, then?”

“Oh, god no,” Gabriel shakes his head. “I’m not insane.”

Cas slaps his palm to his forehead.

**oo**

Thankfully, Cas doesn’t say anything over the next handful of days when Gabriel wants to hang out in his room with him. They don’t talk, but it’s nice to be around another human. Cas can work and Gabriel can watch TV on his laptop, and when Gabriel dozes off he knows he won’t be kicked out of bed.

“Just don’t jerk off,” Cas warns.

“Why would I jerk off in your bed?” asks Gabriel.

“I don’t know, but you do a lot of weird things, so I figured it would be best to cover all my bases.”

Being that he’s the third out of four boys in his family, Gabriel is used to sharing beds. Vacations demanded it if they were to be affordable, and little brothers demanded it should they have any nightmares. He can remember waking up terrified and climbing into Michael’s bed, because Michael was the oldest, the strongest, and he’d be able to protect him and his brothers from the big bads.

When Michael told him he was too old to be getting scared during the night, Lucifer would scoot over and make room for him. He also told Gabriel that this obviously meant that Michael was conspiring with the things that went bump in the night and that he should not be trusted. The latter portion of the statement was true, not for being a coconspirator with evil, but just because he was a self-righteous dick, plain and simple. Lucifer was a self-righteous dick too, but he was a self-righteous dick who was nice to Gabriel, and that put him ahead of Michael by leaps and bounds.

Then Cas came along. Cas, who was dad’s but not mom’s. Cas, who at six months old lost his own mother and fell into dad’s lap. Cas, the little brother no one could even touch, who cried every time mom and dad tried to hold him. Michael and Lucifer grew weary of him quickly, and so did mom and even dad. A baby was old hat to them, just another person to care for.

But while Cas may have had three big brothers, he was Gabriel’s only little brother, and Gabriel accepted this responsibility with every last piece of his heart and soul. And the thing about Castiel? Once you prove yourself to him, you have a loyal, dedicated friend for the rest of your life.

And even a socially stunted friend like Cas will give you his bed and make you a sandwich if it means you'll feel better.

Gabriel wakes on Sunday afternoon to just this: Cas’ pillow against his face and a turkey sandwich, with a scrap of paper that reads, _"Went to library. Will be home tonight. Remember to eat before work."_

**oo**

When he’s done with his shift in the wee hours of Monday morning, Gabriel finds that he has a message from Sam. Trying not to get his hopes too high, he slides through to see not a plea to return, but what may as well be the opposite. A series of pictures of a pristine backyard and crystal clear pool, and a couple of Sam lounging in a t-shirt and swim trunks.

Gabriel’s stomach bottoms out and he texts back, _‘Looks like Gatsby’s got you suckered in.’_

By the time he’s back to the apartment he has a reply. What Sam is doing up at five in the morning, Gabriel doesn’t know.

_‘A pretty high brow reference for someone who once referred to Sharknado as a modern masterpiece.’_

_‘Don’t cream your undies just yet, kiddo. I watched half of the movie and zonked.’_

_‘That’s unsurprising.’_

_‘Eat me, you little schmuck’_

Gabriel is all the way back to his apartment  by now, relief blooming through him at finally talking to Sam. He hesitates, wondering if he should send the message in the text box at the bottom of the screen.

He swallows and hits send.

_‘I miss you, Stretch’_

The pause between messages isn’t nearly as long as it feels--Gabriel swears it takes hours before he gets a response, _‘I miss you too.’_

**oo**

The afternoon Tuesday shift is about as dead as anyone would expect. Gabriel isn’t fond of it but, for obvious reasons, that does not hold true on this particular Tuesday. Before he even reaches the front door, he can see Sam in the front window, sipping coffee and and pouring over something on his laptop. Gabriel checks and sees yes, he does indeed have enough time before his shift starts to say hello.

His version of hello, however, happens to be sneaking up in the empty booth behind Sam and saying, “Boo”.

Sam startles and looks over his shoulder. He goes from surprised to relieved in the blink of an eye, and shakes his head, “You dick.”

Gabriel grins, and even though he knows he’s too close, he’s willing to take the tongue lashing from Kali later on. Sam is so close and so warm, and he smells kind of like that douchebag men’s shower gel or whatever, but Gabriel is willing to take what he can get. And how lovely a sight to see Sam leaning in before Gabriel can even say a proper hello.

Kissing in the middle of a sparsely patronized diner… Christ, they’re in danger of being every horny teenaged couple, sucking mad face in public with absolutely zero shame. Technically, Sam is still a teenager, but Gabriel has been in his twenties more than long enough to know better.

They pull apart and in spite of this immaturity Gabriel grins, “Hey-a, Sammy.”

“Hey,” Sam smiles back.

“I gotta tell you, kid, you are a sight for sore eyes,” Gabriel slides out of the booth. “I’m gonna go clock in. You need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Sam smirks. “You guys are already in the weeds as it is.”

Right now, only two other tables are occupied, one by a middle-aged couple and the other by a legally blind octogenarian named Harold, who comes in just about every day around this time.

“Never mind,” Gabriel levels a look at him. “I said I missed you; I lied. You’re the worst.”

Sam’s whole face tugs up into a smile and Gabriel swivels, walking back to the office with a stupidly good feeling in his chest.

“Your friend is back,” says Kali. “You know you can’t sit in his booth and talk to him for the entirety of your shift, right?”

“I know,” Gabriel, with his back turned, sticks out his tongue and makes a face.

“However, if he were to move up to the counter,” she points out. “That would be another matter entirely.”

“You tryin’ to get me laid, Kali?” Gabriel looks up from tying his apron.

“Anything that will keep you from moping around here day in and day out,” says Kali, eyes fixed firmly on her work.

“Aw, that’s all I get after our torrid-yet-brief affair,” Gabriel leans back against the lockers, letting out a melodramatic sigh as he he his gaze downward. “I thought we had something special, but no. You wanna use me and wad me up and toss me out like a tissue, well that’s just _fine_!”

Kali finally looks up, though all Gabriel can do is assume, since he’s still got his neck craned dramatically away from her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“If you have to ask, you’ll never know,” he says, holds his position for only a second or two longer before he lets himself go lax. “Man, fake romance serial always kills.”

“You may need to reevaluate your definition of ‘always’,” Kali looks over the tops of her reading glasses, the office’s fluorescent light glinting off the crystals embedded in the rims. “Get out of here before I change my mind and ban that little twerp for life.”

Gabriel gives her a look, “You may need to reevaluate your definition of ‘little’,” he shoots back.

“Oh, go to hell,” Kali rolls her eyes.

“Already there, sweetness,” Gabriel winks, then very quickly has to dodge a pad of post-it notes. It’s by no means the angriest he’s ever seen her. He gets various office supplies thrown at him during any shift on any day, so why should today be any different?

He takes a spot behind the counter and whistles, catching Sam’s attention.

“You get a seat up at the counter,” Gabriel indicates, setting out a paper place mat and a set of utensils.

Sam gathers his things and totes them over, “Did you just whistle at me like a dog?”

“Worked,” Gabriel shrugs. “At least I can talk to you up here and pretend I’m working.”

“Ah,” Sam nods as he takes a seat. “Think you’ll be able to pull it off?”

“Kid, I haven’t done a lick of actual work the entire time I’ve been on this planet,” Gabriel grabs the regular coffee pot and tops off Sam’s mug. “You know how long it takes the earth to travel around the sun twenty-five and a half years?”

“Well, there are three-hundred sixty-five days a year--”

“I know you can figure it out, stop it,” Gabriel reaches over and flicks him on the earlobe.

“Ow!”

“Serves you right, know-it-all,” Gabriel tosses back and then leans over a stretch of unoccupied counter. “How’ve you been, Sam?”

It feels strange, just having the three letters come out of his mouth. _‘Sammy’_ gets an eye roll, _‘Stretch’_ gets a goofy grin, and _‘‘squatch’_ gets a groan, but _‘Sam’_.

He doesn’t know what the hell _‘Sam’_ gets him just yet, but whatever it is, Gabriel wants to reach out and grab it and keep it close forever.

Blinking, Sam responds, “I’ve been okay, I guess.”

“Looked like you were having the time of your life,” says Gabriel. “Now, I don’t want it to seem like I’m competing for you or anything, but you should know that we finally got that light fixture screwed back into the wall, so.”

Sam huffs a laugh, “Going for the hard sell, huh?”

“Shut up,” Gabriel tosses back.

It should be terrifying, how easy it is to be with Sam. It actually is terrifying, but Gabriel is nothing if not a master of grinning and bearing it.

“So,” Gabriel rights himself and starts wiping the counter, though for whom he doesn't know. Kali doesn't expect him to be working, and neither does Sam. Maybe it's just a trick, something he can do to keep his hands busy and his eyes averted.

“So what?” asks Sam.

“How’s life with the roomie?” Gabriel doesn’t look up from his self-imposed task.

“Good,” Sam admits. At least the kid’s not a liar. “Still won’t let me be on top, but he did commend me on my improved methods of giving head, so I guess it’s fine.”

Something cold settles in Gabriel’s stomach, though it definitely doesn’t belong there. He and Sam… duh, of course they weren’t--aren’t anything.

“Dick move on his part,” is what Gabriel settles on saying. “Literally.”

Sam snorts, “Not everyone’s as versatile as you.”

“Unfortunately,” Gabriel agrees, only just realizing that he’s trying to clean not a smudge, but a discoloration of the actual counter. A discoloration he has always known about and has never paid attention to before. He tosses the rag over his shoulder and checks the nearest napkin holder to him, before he feels confident in concluding, “The world would be a much better place if they were.”

“Couldn’t even imagine,” Sam shakes his head.

“No hang-ups, no one afraid of what they like, or who’s shoving what into which orifice… heterosexism a thing of the past,” Gabriel gives a wistful sigh. “Imagine that. “

Sam looks up at that, actually considering the weight of what was meant to be a toss away line.

“I’d like that world,” Sam nods. “Not sure people like my dad would, but repression obviously isn’t doing anyone any favors.”

Gabriel snorts, then remembers the nucleus of the conversation and feels another rush of unbelievable cold-and-heat in his stomach. They’d never established anything official--they’d barely even established that they actually enjoyed one another. Going at this rate, if everything worked out, they’d be officially dating by Gabriel’s seventieth birthday.

Shame, since Gabriel fully intends on spending every day of the previous year making lewd jokes to whomsoever might listen to him.

There’s a gritty unease in his belly when he looks at Sam and has the fleetingest of fleeting thoughts that he maybe might at some point like that ‘whomsoever’ to be this Class A Nerd right here.

Fleeting--gone before Gabriel even realized it was there.

They spend the rest of Gabriel’s shift chatting, more sparingly toward the end when they get their dinner rush. Any other restaurant would turn their noses up and laugh at what they thought was a ‘rush’ around here, but they’re not any other restaurant. They’ve usually only got two people back in the kitchen and two people out on the floor, one of whom is the new hire, Charlie Bradbury. It’s a lot for four people to handle, and a lot for Kali to manage.

“You guys don’t even have table bussers?” asks Sam as Gabriel grabs the empty plate and glass from the spot beside him.

“I really don’t have time to go into the fucked up dynamics right now, Sammy-boy,” Gabriel retorts. Whatever he said, it must’ve pissed Sam off, because he packs away his things and leaves the counter.

Christ, that’s the last thing Gabriel needs tonight.

He puts it out of his mind, though, and does a quick round of his side of the diner before he returns to the counter.

Only, Sam is already behind the counter, an apron tied over his waist and his hair pulled back. He searches until he finds what he’s looking for: a black bus tub.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Putting an end to the madness,” Sam pushes past him. “It’s like watching a dog walk on its hind legs out here.”

“Since when do you know how to bus tables?” Gabriel leans over the counter.

“Since I know how to put dishes in a tub and wash them,” Sam sticks out his tongue, and that’s that. With a fifth person on hand, things get a lot easier to handle. Gabriel and Charlie can wait their tables, can seat customers without having to worry about clearing and setting the tables first, and can properly harass Ash and Benny for their orders.

And Sam does his work flawlessly, zoned in like Gabriel has never seen him. He sets tables with precision--like, Full Metal Jacket, borderline creepy militant precision. He’s not even trying to do it, either. There’s no undercurrent of compulsory perfectionism, it’s just something that appears to be innate.

It’s one of the weirdest things Gabriel has ever seen.

By the time the rush has ended, the three of them converge at the counter, all-out exhaustion on their faces. Gabriel and Charlie both count up their tips.

“Came in just under eighty,” says Gabriel. “You?”

“Sixty-two,” Charlie groans and smacks her head against the counter. “How the hell do you do it?”

“I’m charming as fuck, Charles,” says Gabriel, and Sam snorts.

Gabriel counts again, stops at twenty-five and slides it across the counter to Sam.

“Oh,” Sam shakes his head. “No, I can’t take that. They’re your tips.”

Charlie glares, “Don’t even--”

“It’s just the tip, Sammy,” Gabriel grins.

Charlie shakes her head at him, but counts out twenty dollars and hands them over to Sam. “You did a lot, Sam,” she says. “And you’re not getting a paycheck for it. You did it to help us out, so we’re thanking you.”

Charlie’s smile is one of the most genuine on the face of the earth, and Gabriel decides then and there that, yeah, she’s a good egg.

“Forty-five smackaroos,” Gabriel cuffs him on the shoulder. “What’s next, Rockafeller?”

Sam looks up from the money in his hands to Gabriel, and that is straight up wickedness behind his eyes right there.

Gabriel swallows hard and considers, “Well, there’s always that.”

A glance at the clock and the arrival of Ruby indicates that it’s time for Gabriel to go home. He unties his apron, but doesn’t take his eyes off of Sam. He looks so satisfied with the money in his hands, even though he’s worn out and his hair is starting to fall out of its hold.

Gabriel then squares his shoulders, his decision made. He heads back into the office, where Kali still sits, and stands in front of her desk until she looks up.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

“You’ll recall that certain occurrences during our tryst landed me with a promise of one favor from you,” Gabriel says, Sam’s smile still etched into his mind’s eye. That’s all he needs to muster the courage to continue, “I’m cashing in.”

* * *

The thing about living with someone, even for a week, is that you get used to them. During his first night at Brady’s, Sam nearly texted Gabriel a dozen times, almost called him more than once.

But now he’s here in Gabriel’s bed, with Gabriel’s thighs on his shoulders and hands in his hair, and the last of Gabriel’s come leaking in soft pulses into his mouth. Sam came first--way too quickly--like some wet-behind-the-ears kid in the back seat of his parents’ mini van. He’d planned on drawing it out as long as he could, but his dick was just not having it.

A blowjob makes up for that, right?

Sam keeps flicking his tongue over the softening cock in his mouth until Gabriel whines and pushes him away.

“God _damn_ it,” Gabriel pants, and Sam finally lets out the goofy laugh he knows he’s been holding back. His condom has long since been on the floor, in the nest of t-shirts between Sam’s knees. Giggles continue to erupt from his chest, and suddenly he realizes that this is probably the happiest he’s been in days.

That’s not great.

Gabriel sits up and slumps forward, propping his elbows on his thighs. Sam doesn’t know what it is, but there’s something in his eyes that seems a little off. Hoping to fix it, or at least help, Sam leans in and pulls him into a kiss. Gabriel sighs into it, his arms now coming up to wrap around Sam’s shoulders.

When they pull apart, Gabriel rests their foreheads together. It’s something Sam’s noticed in the time they’ve been sleeping together: there’s about a three minute period after Gabriel comes wherein his defenses are down completely. It’s hard to catch, since Sam is usually too stoned out of his mind on a good orgasm to register what the hell he’s seeing, but it’s there.

Tonight, Sam’s had a chance to recover. When he opens his eyes, he sees Gabriel’s are still shut.

He pulls back slightly and kisses him, a light peck, almost nothing, but it gets Gabriel to open his eyes. They’re such an interesting color, and Sam never really gets them so up close. There’s also, at the moment, no cloud pulled over them--just clear golden-brown--and they skate over Sam’s face like they’re just seeing it for the first time.

Gabriel leans in for another kiss, this one more substantial.

This time when he pulls back, he lets out a satisfied sigh and grins so broadly that it makes Sam’s cheeks twitch with sympathy.

“Hell of a lay, there, Sammy-boy. Think you sucked most of my brain out with that load.”

Well.

That’s the end of that then.

**oo**

Dean calls early the next morning. It has to be Dean, because nobody else would call him at seven in the morning on a Wednesday. Only his phone is somewhere on the other side of the room in his pants pocket, and he’s too tangled up in bedsheets and limbs to crawl out and find it.

The phone rings again, not two minutes later.

So, now he knows for _sure_ that it’s Dean.

“What the fuck is your ringtone,” Gabriel groans into his pillow as soon as it dies out again.

“It’s a telephone sound,” Sam defends.

“I know what it is, dipshit,” Gabriel snipes back. “Why is that your ringtone? Are you a fucking state auditor?”

“Ha-ha,” Sam mocks back.

The third time it starts ringing, Gabriel gives up and rolls out of bed to find and kill the source of the noise. He knows Gabriel is about the opposite of a morning person, so he can’t laugh, but there’s something intrinsically hilarious about watching a pissed off naked guy rooting around in piles of dirty laundry, on his hands and knees.

It instantly becomes un-funny when Gabriel answers the phone.

“It is seven in the morning, douchepit,” he informs.

Oh, Jesus.

“No… What the fuck, who’s _this_?”

“Gabriel, will you give me my phone?” Sam pleads.

“Yeah, I’m his personal secretary, ass monger,” Gabriel spits back. Well, if their relationship isn’t off to a rollicking start. “Hang on.”

Gabriel puts the phone to his chest and asks, “Mr. Winchester, are you available to take a personal call?”

Sam slips off the bed and snatches the phone from him, “Dick.”

“Sammy, what the hell is going on over there?” Dean demands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sorry,” Sam shoves Gabriel’s face away from his neck. “To borrow a phrase, my friend is being a fucking douchepit.”

“Friend?” asks Dean.

“Yeah, dude,” Sam immediately tenses as Gabriel wraps a hand around Sam’s dick. Soft and pliant, but not for long.

“Christ, how many friends do you have?”

“People tend to have multiple friends, Dean,” Sam keeps his voice remarkably even for how hard he’s getting in such a short amount of time.

“Wow, that exhausts me just thinking about it,” says Dean. “I hadn’t heard from you in a while, thought I’d check in.”

“Ye _eeah_ ,” the word elongates itself on Sam’s tongue. “Can I call you back? Bus comes in like five minutes. I gotta…” he takes too long of a pause when he loses all but Gabriel’s fingers, dancing lightly over Sam’s thickening erection. “I gotta catch the bus. No one drives out here.”

There’s a suspiciously long pause, but Dean finally huffs, “Heathens.”

Sam’s laugh is a little too forced to be anything but a dead giveaway. Dean isn’t stupid--he’s had plenty of mornings after. Way too many to let Sam get away with this.

But he _does_.

“Hey, go catch your bus,” Dean says. “I’ll call later tonight after I’m done at the garage.”

“Cool!” Sam exclaims much too rapidly, and ends the call without so much as a goodbye. He leans against the bed and lets out a disgustingly loud noise, which ends with a rousing, “You fucking shithead.”

“Ah, shut up,” Gabriel teases back and covers Sam’s lips with his. Sam kisses back with unwarranted desperation, mind rapidly clouding over, conquered by pure lust.

Gabriel gets him off fast--faster than he’s come to expect from Gabriel, which may be why Gabriel did it. Rather than wipe his hand, Gabriel smears Sam’s come all over his belly, up his chest, into his skin.

Sam moans.

“Okay, up we go,” Gabriel gets to his feet, and though Sam doesn’t need the hand up, he takes it when offered.

They wash up, Sam making sure to return the handjob under the warm spray of the shower before they finish and get dressed. He then chuckles to himself as, when they get to the kitchen, Gabriel apologizes profusely to Thor for not paying attention to him last night. It’s one of the most idiotically adorable things Sam has ever seen, and Sam can’t help himself.

“You’re cute.”

This stops Gabriel dead cold.

“‘the fuck did you just call me?”

“ _Cute_ ,” Sam enunciates every phonetic sound perfectly. “Deal with it.”

“God, you’re disgusting,” Gabriel rolls his eyes and then passes Thor to Sam. “Go play with daddy’s bad Sama Jama while he gets breakfast ready.”

“Oh, my god, I hate you,” Sam groans, unable to keep that nugget of happiness out of his chest.

Sam takes Thor outside for a few minutes. By the time Thor has gone to the bathroom, sniffed around the grass and flowers, and been toted back upstairs by Sam, Gabriel is at the table, eating out of a large cereal bowl.

“Saved you some Cap’n Crunch,” Gabriel stifles his yawn against his hand. Knowing better, Sam grabs Castiel’s corn flakes out of the cabinet and pours himself a bowl of those.

“So, um,” Sam clears his throat. “I’m sorry my brother was a dick.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Gabriel shrugs as Cas’ door opens. “Brothers are dicks. And I know you’re right behind me.”

“Take my silence as affirmation,” Cas mumbles.

“Wonderful,” Gabriel winks as Cas comes around to grab the cereal and milk. Gabriel fidgets in his seat, bounces his leg until he’s got the whole table shaking. “So, kiddo,” he starts in, calm as ever. “If I were to tell you that Kali wants to offer you a job--”

Sam nearly chokes on his cereal. He does manage to swallow before he coughs out a, “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel nods. “We’ve been telling her we need new employees for months, and she’s only just now starting to hire. You know I used to do that dinner rush by myself?”

“What?” Sam’s eyebrows go up. “I mean, I know it’s not a big place or anything, but holy crap, the couple hours I worked, I _worked_.”

“Easy,” Gabriel placates. “But yeah, she saw you helping out and I told her I’d ask you about it.”

“Dude, of course!” Sam exclaims. “This is… holy shit.”

“Indeed,” says Cas. Sam doesn’t miss the brief glance Gabriel shares with his brother, but he’s too happy to care. He leans over the table and pulls Gabriel into a sugary kiss.

There’s a heavy sigh from Cas and a plea, “Can you please wait until I leave the room this time?”

Gabriel deepens the kiss, just out of spite, and Sam tries not to laugh.

“Okay, give me the finger,” Cas agrees, tired. “Very mature.”

When they finally pull apart to breathe, Cas is gone, and Gabriel looks nothing short of smug.

“Wait, so this is really happening,” Sam confirms.

“Yeah,” Gabriel nods. “You’ll have to go talk to her and everything, but yeah, she said it’s as good as done. All you gotta do is say yes.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> **See Series Notes


End file.
